September 16, 2012
It was a day of laundry. Whites. Darks. Delicates. It seemed to go on forever. She was still folding laundry at 8 PM on a Sunday night, which she hated. Laundry that persisted into the evening on Sunday was like a harbinger of evil – it made it truly difficult to enjoy the last bit of the weekend. Dragging baskets of laundry back upstairs was something she hated. The fact that the laundry was in the basement was a real design flaw in her opinion – that the laundry room had a slop sink only made it barely tolerable in her mind.